My dad has worked in the restaurant industry since before I was born.  He’s managed all kinds of different restaurants, from Black Eyed Pea to Steak & Ale to Olive Garden, and so forth.  I remember him waking me up early some Saturday mornings when I was little and taking me with him to meetings up at the Black Eyed Pea.  The staff would get there and have meetings about whatever it was grown ups discussed; I didn’t care because I was given soda and crayons to color, and the remote control to the TV behind the bar so I could watch cartoons.  Sometimes we would stop and get donuts on the way in, and the lady would almost always give me a little bag of donut holes for free for “being so cute”.

Some Saturdays when there weren’t work meetings to attend, we’d get up and go to Putt-Putt to play mini-golf and video games.  This became a regular thing, something I looked forward to a lot.  Dad would give me the majority of the tokens to go off and play with, and he’d usually end up camping out at a virtual golf game.  Yup.  We’d go to play mini-golf and video games, and after playing mini-golf he’d come inside and play virtual golf.  Obsessed much?  I didn’t care, I got more tokens than he did and it suited me just fine.  Sometimes we’d even do the batting cages.  It always felt like it lasted all day, when in reality I’m sure it was only a couple hours.  But I loved it and looked forward to it.  We haven’t gone in years, and I miss it.

Another thing we used to do was go to Pancho’s and pig out on the fine mexican cuisine.  lol  Well…we pigged out, let’s just say that.  Sometimes we’d go on or around my birthday, and he’d have them sing to me and I’d get to pick out a piñata to take home with me.  I seem to remember having at least a couple of them shoved in my closet at one point.  Nowadays the dessert bar is pretty bare, and you’re lucky if you can even get ice cream.  But when I was younger, I would get ice cream and put chocolate sauce on it with little oreo crumbs and nuts and sometimes even gummi bears.  *sigh*  Those were the days.

We don’t do those things together anymore, but the relationship between us is still strong.  A prime example is how well he and Keith get along.  I had never been in a situation to introduce anyone I dated to my parents, but Keith was the first and Dad was great.  He actually was the one who kept asking when it would happen.  When he met Keith, he was really nice…in his typical dad-crazy way.  He made sure that both of us knew how happy he was for us, and it came across perfectly.  He’s accepted Keith as part of the family now, and I couldn’t be happier about it.  Sometimes I find out the two of them text message each other without me knowing, but it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.  On the contrary, it actually makes me feel really good knowing that they’re pretty close.  Dad has never judged me or treated me badly for being gay.  If anything, he’s been accepting and loving and making sure I know it will never change how much he cares for me.

I’m really lucky to have my father.  Our relationship has had it’s ups and downs over the years, but the great thing about it is that we always come out the other side all the better for it.

So to my dad, I love you and thank you for being there and helping create these long-lasting memories.  Happy father’s day.

I didn’t really know the kid when we went to school together.  And to be completely honest, what I did know of him I didn’t like.  I was picked on a lot as a child, teased for being smart and quiet and not athletic, and I distinctly remember this kid being one of the many who bullied me.  But sitting there and reading that he’d died, I felt like I would cry.  I don’t know why.  Obviously the loss of any human life is something to be somber about, but I hadn’t seen or thought of him in almost a decade – why would his death be causing me such emotional turmoil?

As I sat there I realized that I was being confronted with my own mortality.  His obituary didn’t say what he’d died of, so I was left in the dark and unwilling to contact anyone who knew him to ask the question of them.  Was it a car crash?  Was it medical?  Was it drugs?  Did anyone even know?  I have no clue, and it’s truly not important.  What is important is that it made me realize that I’m not guaranteed to live to be 80.  I can’t walk around sure of the fact that I’m going to grow old and live a lengthy and productive life.  Because there is no guarantee.  This guy learned that the hard way unfortunately, and his passing helped to make me realize it as well.

I guess we all just need to realize that we take life for granted.  I know I do at least.  I don’t give much thought to the fact that tomorrow could be the end; I guess that’s for the best, because if you get too wrapped up in that kind of morbid thinking, it could be what ultimately kills you.  But I do think it’s healthy and wise to be aware of the fact that not everybody makes it to the grand finish line of life.  Some people are going to stumble halfway, and some don’t make it past the starting line.  I’m lucky to have gotten this far, and I’m gonna do my best to make sure I make it to the end.  One  thing is certain though – as competitive as I am in most areas of life, this is one race I have no intention of finishing first.

January was the beginning of my unemployment.  I’d been laid off from CitiGroup effective the end of December, and I began what I thought would only be a short stint of being jobless.  Little did I know that it would be another 6 months before I would get so much as an interview, let alone another 2 months after that before I’d finally find a job (thanks to a former Citi coworker [further proving that it's more "who you know" than "what you know"]).  In the meantime, I started my own IT consulting company, which didn’t take off quite as well as I wanted.  It kept money flowing in while I had no job, but it wasn’t anywhere near being an income replacement.  The company still exists and I still work under the company name, but it’s not on a level with what I was hoping for.  I can only hope that word will continue to spread, and that it will get bigger over time.

In March I traveled out to Arizona to help out my grandmother while my grandfather was in the hospital.  He spent weeks in the hospital developing numerous complications, and there was a period of time where my grandmother finally broke down, fearing that she would lose him.  While she was in the hospital dealing with doctors and nurses and waiting to hear back after yet another surgery, I had the task of going outside and calling my father and aunt and uncle to let them know that there might come a time shortly when they’d need to come out immediately to say their final good-byes.  The calls were hard to make, but luckily it never came to that.  He recovered, albeit slowly, and I left shortly before he was released from rehab to finally make it home again.  I saw him again many months later when they visited Texas, and it brought a smile to my face to see him up and walking around again after having seen him so weak in a hospital bed for so long.

My birthday rolled around (again) in May, and Keith made it the best birthday ever.  He treated me so special and made a big deal out of it, something that I’ve never really had done, but always not-so-secretly wanted.  He did that for me, and I’ll never forget it.  And it wasn’t just that day either, but all the time.  He makes the littlest things feel so important and wonderful, and it makes life so much more enjoyable.  He gives me reasons to smile when I feel like nothing is going as it should.

Summer flew by and at the end of August I finally got a job.  I’m still a consultant, but a job as a temp is better than no job at all, and maybe someday soon it’ll become a permanent position.  I can only hope.  Going from such a structured and intense work environment like Citi to somewhere as relaxed and enjoyable as where I’m at now was a wonderful bit of culture shock.  I was prepared to be immersed in the corporate world all over again, but it never really happened.  I work at a high rise in Dallas, and I feel fancy when I go into work every day, but it’s a job that I finally feel a sense of accomplishment for doing.  Like what I come into the office for each morning makes a difference somehow, and that I’m not just answering a phone call from someone making well over six figures asking me how to open their email and print a file anymore.

November was my one year anniversary with Keith.  It’s hard to look back on the past year and realize that Keith has been there the whole time.  I never thought I’d have someone like that, someone so wonderful in my life, there by my side through it all.  He’s been there for me, and I’ve been there for him.  Things are going so great.  It’s frustrating to me that many of my family members have no desire to meet this person so special to me.  That because I’m not in the kind of relationship they want (with a woman), my relationship can’t possibly be real or loving or as fulfilling as theirs.  Those that have taken the time to meet him have all told me how obvious it is that we’re wonderful together.  In over a year of being together, I’ve never introduced him to a single person who has later said anything negative about him or us as a couple.  I even had the chance to meet some of his coworkers and his manager for his department’s Christmas party this year, and he told me later that they all enjoyed meeting me as well.  I wish that people would open their eyes and hearts and realize that even though things aren’t always what you want or think should be, they can still be really great.  I love Keith with all my heart, something I make sure to tell him every single day.  How many other people can say the same thing?

This last month has been a trying one.  I almost failed my first Master’s level course in college, but I barely pulled it out at the end of the semester by studying hard for the final and sliding by with a C.  That’s not something I’m terribly proud of, but at least I passed.  I made an effort to understand a course with material that was in no way familiar or easy to me, and I made it.  I got very sick the day after Christmas – sicker than I think I’ve ever been before – and could barely walk around the apartment that morning.  And then Keith came over.  He took care of me.  He got me to eat food, even though I couldn’t keep anything down.  He went out and bought me Sprite to calm my stomach, and nausea medicine to help even more.  He stayed by my side all day, even when the medicine knocked me out on the couch.  I’ve taken care of him when he’s been sick, but I hadn’t been sick enough for him to have to do the same for me.  That day opened my eyes as to yet another reason he’s so wonderful.  When the situation calls for it, I know I can lean on him for support.  I can’t even articulate how comforting that is.

The day after I was so sick, I woke up feeling not great, but much better than before.  As the day rolled on I improved, and Keith and I even made a trip to Arlington to visit my dad.  On the way home we were in an accident.  Neither of us were hurt, but as I got my insurance card out of the glove compartment I looked in the rearview mirror to see the woman drive off.  I didn’t have time to get a license plate number.  I didn’t even have a chance to get out and look at the damage to my car.  An eye witness a few moments later came up to us and told us that she’d seen the woman driving the other vehicle actually get out of her car, check the damage to her own vehicle, and then get back in and drive off.  Unfortunately the witness hadn’t seen the license plate either, but I still appreciate her coming over and giving me her info in case it helped.  All-in-all over $1500 worth of damage was done to my car, and with the bumper tied to my car with rope so it wouldn’t fall off and cause another accident, I took it in today to a body shop and left it there for repairs.  My insurance covers all but my deductible, and even got me a rental car, so the situation isn’t as bad as it could be.  It just frustrates and hurts me that someone out there is so callous and selfish that she caused an accident, then made sure her own car was safe to drive and then fled.

But even with the ups and the downs, the goods and the bad, the best of times and worst of times, I feel that 2009 wasn’t a waste.  It wasn’t the worst year ever.  It was just a year.  One which I’m happy to see over in many ways, but will still look back on and smile for the good times it holds.  2010 is going to be here shortly, and I go into it with my head held high hoping to make good things happen for myself and for those around me.  It’s not just the beginning of a new year, but of a new decade.  Bring it on life.

It’s hard sometimes for me to actually look at myself in the mirror and admit that time has passed, and that I’m an adult now.  I still see the me of high school and college sometimes, and I wonder what exactly has changed since then.  Obviously certain things have changed as time progressed, but I’m still essentially the same person I was a few years ago.

It’s hard to equate that child I see in the mirror with the person I am today.  The one who lives on his own and works a 40 hour week to pay his bills and survive from month to month.  The one who is in a loving relationship, when years ago I thought that I’d never find love.  Young though he is, the boy in the mirror feels like life is just going to go on as it has been going, being alone and desperate for someone to love and be loved by.

Time goes by both infinitely slowly and unerringly quickly.  A month can seem like a year, and a year can seem like a month.  Perception depends upon your experiences.  The face in the mirror tells me that I’ve experienced both.  I’ve seen time slow to an agonizing crawl, seemingly beating me over the head with life every single day.  I’ve also seen time fly by, with love and joy seemingly having just been introduced into my life, when in actuality they have been present for quite some time now.

The next time I see that face in the mirror, I’ll smile at him and I know he’ll smile back.  Because if I’m looking at him and remembering where I come from, then maybe he can look at me and see where he’s going.  And as crazy as things may seem sometimes, he needs to know that it’s all going to be just fine.

I wasn’t worried about gifts this year.  I didn’t have a lot of money to spend on people, so I made dishes of candy for people.  They weren’t anything incredibly fancy, but it’s what I could afford and just about everyone I know loves candy.  For a select few people (Keith and direct family) I bought some gifts.  And while I was buying those gifts, I realized that I wasn’t really concerned about what I’d be getting in return.  Usually I took that into account when buying presents, but this year I just bought what I could afford and what I thought the person would like, then wrapped it up and presented it to them and hoped for the best.  It’s taken a long time, but I think I finally realized that Christmas isn’t about gifts.  Sure, getting presents is nice and you hope you get something you actually like, but that’s not what it’s about.

I prayed this morning on my way over to my dad’s house to celebrate Christmas.  It’s something I don’t do nearly as often as I should, but when I do I try to express myself as best I can.  I thanked God for the Son that was sent to us which eventually inspired the Christmas we all know and love.  I felt silly at first just talking to my car as I drove down the road, but I got used to it and it felt a little more natural.  Maybe I should pray more.

When all was said and done I got some good gifts and some not-so-good gifts.  But the thought behind all of them was what made me enjoy getting them.  I truly enjoyed this Christmas.  I had fun seeing family and spending the day just hanging out and playing games on my brother’s new Nintendo Wii.

I hope that everyone else out there had a wonderful Christmas as well.  Now…where’s that rum cake that I got…?

For now, the details of this deception shall remain with me.  For reflection purposes alone, the details aren’t necessary.  Just the concept.

I’ve learned time and time again that trust is far more valuable than I thought as a teenager.  Over the past few years on my own I’ve developed entirely different kinds of friendships and relationships than I had in high school.  This is to be expected I suppose.  What I wasn’t prepared for was how much trust was implied in the development of these bonds.  I had to open up a part of myself that I normally wouldn’t, developing closer friendships than I’d ever had in the past.  People I’d known for years were not as close to me as some I’d just met.  Over the years it’s balanced out, but the fact remains that I’ve let down barriers I hadn’t previously known existed.

And it’s been to my detriment many a time.  My ex roommate often took advantage of this.  He’d do something to eradicate my trust in him, then act to restore it, only to tear it up again.  It was a process I allowed to repeat far too many times before putting a permanent barrier up.  For a long time I kept in touch, but never allowed that same level of friendship to be reached.  I’d been burned too many times, but like a fool I had continued to return to the fire.

For years I used to lie about everything.  Things that weren’t even important.  I’d make up stories to make myself sound better or to get out of doing something I didn’t want to do.  I had myself convinced it didn’t matter.  Sometimes it was such an automatic response that I’d lie instantly even when the situation didn’t call for it at all.  It was at that point that I realized that as much as I demanded honesty and trustworthiness in those around me, I was by no means exhibiting them myself.  That had to change.

And it has.  I still struggle with it.  I’m not perfect by any means.  When someone asks me a questions, no longer is a lie the automatic response, but that’s not to say the truth is either.  My mind races as to what the repercussions could be even in the smallest of circumstances, but I’m able to make the conscious decision to be honest now instead of outright lying.  Again, this is not to say I don’t lie.  But now when I do, no matter the reasoning behind the action, I always feel guilty about it.  That’s how I know I’m still moving forward.

Now that I’ve changed the things in myself that I valued in others, I am even more critical of those I allow close to me.  And now someone has betrayed that trust and taken advantage of it to a degree I hadn’t seen coming.  And all I can think of is what my parents used to tell me.  And so to that person who has hurt me, I paraphrase their words:

I’m so disappointed in you.  It’s not the lie itself that hurts the most, it’s the fact that you didn’t feel like you could come to me with the truth.  No matter what happens, what you’ve said or done, I will always prefer the harsh truth over a gentle lie.  A lie by omission is still a lie, so avoiding the truth is still the same in the end.  You’ve undermined the trust I had in you, and it will take a long time to put things right.  I just hope you’re willing to try.  And I pray I’m willing to let you.

No matter the justification, lying to get what you want is wrong.  Deception is wrong.  Going behind someone’s back to have fun and then pretending it never happened is wrong.  In the end, you’re deceiving yourself as well, because you’ll convince yourself it’s okay or that someone else pushed you to do it.  We are all responsible for our own actions and we must each stand up and own up to what we’ve said or done.  I learned these things many years ago, and have spent years absorbing them and putting them into play in my life.  I hope you take them to heart and learn them as well.

We all met up at the church on Saturday afternoon.  I thought I was running late, frantically (but safely) driving across town to make it in time, wanting to be sure to be there for the big surprise when Grandpa got there.  I pulled into the parking lot to see three other cars.  I was actually early?  Hmm.  I went inside and helped to get everything setup, and happily greeted the family and friends that arrived over the next hour or so.  The conversations went something like this:

Random lady: “Hi, how are you today?  And who are you?”

Me: “Hi, I’m the real James Dean, didn’t you know?  I have a blog.  *insert imaginary business card here*  I’m doing swell.  And you?”

Random lady: “Ah, James Dean.  I remember you well.  Last time I saw you was when you were three years old playing with [random toy] at [random place].  Remember me?”

Me: “Of course I do.  You were the only person I ever met when I was three.  You made such a lasting impression.  You and lincoln logs.  That’s what I remember from my childhood.  I’m so glad you could make it.”

That happened about eight times.  When my grandfather actually arrived and saw the dozens of people there waiting for him, for the first time in my life I saw him cry.  I saw a sensitive side of the Navy man I’ve known my whole life, and it only made me respect him more.  He walked around saying hi to everyone, occasionally seeing someone he hadn’t yet noticed and getting choked up all over again.  All the cousins just watched in awe, seeing him as we hadn’t before.

My Aunt Sue’s partner, Regina, made a wonderful 12 minute picture slideshow DVD that we played before lunch, and once more my grandfather broke down and cried, and my grandmother did as well.  It was pictures spanning back to his youth, and included pictures of all his kids and grandkids and friends.  It was moving even to me, and I didn’t know half the people I saw on there.  When it was over, a few people stood up and shared some memories of my grandfather, each moving in their own way.  When that was done, a magnificent cake was brought out, and we all started migrating towards the food and spent the rest of the afternoon mingling.

Everyone took pictures together to commemorate the event.  I’ve only seen a few so far, but the one of my grandparents and the one of my family came out quite nicely.  I can’t wait to see the rest of them.

We had dinner together as a family later that night, then headed back to the hotel where everyone was staying while in town.  We camped out in the breakfast room, claimed it as our own, then stayed there for hours playing poker and Catchphrase just having fun.  I had intended to play a little poker, but I got so caught up in Catchprase that I lost track of time and never ended up getting into a poker game.  I loved it so much, I already went and bought it myself to take to Thanksgiving this year to play with the other side of my family tree.

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend.  Happy 80th Birthday Grandpa.

Only recently have I actually realized just how many people I know and care about have served in the past, or are serving now.  I’ve been obvlivious for a long time, something I don’t tolerate in others and will equally not tolerate in myself.  I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said “if you won’t stand behind our troops, stand in front of them”.  In light of the current situation with the US forces stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan, this is more prevalent a view now than almost any other time before.  I believe the only exception would be the Vietnam war back in the 1960′s.

Both of my grandfathers served.  My father’s step-father served in the Navy and my mother’s father in the Navy as well.  What saddens me is that I’ve never sat down with either of them and asked about any of it.  I had a brief conversation once with my dad’s step-dad about when he was young and first enlisted, but it was more of a humorous story than anything else, talking about when he got a tattoo that his mom didn’t like when he returned home.  That’s as close to a real conversation as I’ve gotten.  And until this moment, it never really bothered me.  They both served during times of war and came out of it in one piece and completely sane.  I could never do that.

My cousin Riley is in Afghanistan right now.  We were really close when we were younger, and grew apart once we both reached high school.  It wasn’t either one of us really, it was both.  We could both drive and we both had cell phones, but we never called each other up to just hang out.  Now he’s married and has an infant daughter, and he’s serving in the Army on the other side of the world.  I could never do that.

For many years when I was younger I attended private school, and then when I entered public school in the 3rd grade I still went to that private school for after-school care.  I had a friend named Neil for all that time, and we were inseparable on the playground.  It sounds funny to think back on now, but it’s true.  Used to drive us crazy when his twin sisters would follow us around, but we evaded them together.  For the past couple years he also served in Afghanistan and just recently returned to the states.  I haven’t seen him in years, and once he comes back home I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, but I can’t imagine what he’s gone through and what he’s seen.  I could never do that.

My best friend Terry served in the Marines for 4 years.  It was almost a decade ago, so there weren’t any wars going on, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a difficult decision to make and a stressful time in his life I’m sure.  he and I have talked about it, though not for an extended amount of time.  Most of our conversations consisted of how he met his wife while he was stationed in Hawaii, and and of him showing me photo albums of pictures he took while located both there in Hawaii and later on in Tokyo, Japan.  After meeting the woman he loved and wanted to marry, he got orders to be transferred from one side of the world to the other, leaving her behind, and he had to do it because you can’t just leave the Marines because you don’t want to leave a girl.  So they were separated for quite a while until they were married and then eventually his service ended.  I could never do that.

My friend Michael has just recently enlisted in the Air Force for a six year stint.  I can’t even wrap my mind around that.  Six years committed to something like that which will control almost every aspect of his life, not the least of which is where he and his wife will live.  He seems excited about it and that’s great.  I’m happy for him.  I think this will help him find some direction and stability in his life that he’s been looking for, and I think the structure is going to be really good for him.  He has a lot of ambition and talent, and the Air Force will take those and mold him into someone with the necessary skills to take him in the right direction.  He leaves tonight and will live separately from his wife for months while he’s in basic training and then tech school.  They’ll be able to visit occassionally, but for the first time since they started dating they are going to be apart for a long time.  I could never do that.

I’ll go on record as saying that I don’t believe America has a right or need to be stationed in any of the countries in the middle east right now, but that’s a topic for an entirely different blog entry.  However, I fully support the troops and everything they do, and just want them safe.  These people are willing to sacrifice everything for complete strangers to keep our country safe.  I could never do that.

So to anyone who has served, or even considered serving, I salute you.  My respect and gratitude are yours.  Thank you for all that you’ve done and continue to do.

I didn’t even remember what today was until an email went out at work about it.  As soon as I read it I felt bad for having not known what today was when I first woke up.  But maybe that’s a good thing.  It’s okay to not hold onto these things and keep them at the forefront of your mind at all times.  How long after the Pearl Harbor attack was it before people stopped waking up on December 7th and instantly feel sorrow for our lost men and women in uniform?  I doubt anyone alive back then has forgotten those events, but they’ve moved forward with their lives and respectfully set aside those memories to be honored occasionally, but not dwelled upon.  I feel the same way about 9/11.

I remember when it happened.  I was a junior in high school, going through classes as usual when an announcement came over the PA system.  The principal vaguely stated that our nation was in a state of crisis and that we needed to have a moment of silence for the people we’ve lost.  Nobody had any idea what was going on.  We all stared at each other as if to say “what is she talking about?”  I went to lunch shortly after that and immediately went up to the school library.  I was friendly with the librarians and knew there was a TV in the back room, so I went right in and they were all huddled around it watching the news.  I can still recall seeing the constantly repeating video of the first plane hitting the first tower.  It was devastating to realize that not only had it really happened, but it was an intentional act of violence, not some horrible accident like everyone was secretly hoping.

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur, but as a young teenager I don’t think I really grasped what was happening, and how many drastic changes would be occuring over the coming years.  I do remember being very upset that the TV shows I normally watched after school were all being preempted by news reports and interviews of officials about the day’s events.  People were dying, and I was upset that I couldn’t watch Jeopardy.

Looking back on it all now it’s still very sad.  It always will be.  I can only hope that most of the people who died were killed instantly and taken to a better place, not left in agony for days buried under rubble.  I can’t imagine the fear and utter lack of will to live that some of those people must have endured while they waited to see if anyone would ever find them.  I hope I never have to experience that kind of situation.

On this day more than any other, my heart goes out to those who survived and those who lost family and friends on September 11th, 2001.  I’m sure that God is watching them, and I hope they can take comfort in that.

Terry and I have been friends for about 4 years now, but it seems like so much longer.  We started out having one or two classes together during our undergrad degree, and by the time we were seniors we were taking every class together.  We worked flawlessly together and I was amazed.  I had never liked working in groups or having to rely on anyone else to complete any portion of a project, but he was the exception to the rule.  The most prominent example I remember was an English project we worked on together.  It was the final English course we had to take, and we took on a major project just the two of us instead of working in a bigger group.  The project ended up being a very lengthy paper with massive amounts of research necessary, all organized and put together in a binder to be turned in on presentation day.

Writing the paper and putting the binder together took weeks, and we saw each other almost every day during the meantime.  I’m pretty sure I drove his wife nuts being over all the time, but there wasn’t any way around it at the time.  The hours flew by when we worked together and everything we did seemed almost perfect.  We also had to put together a PowerPoint presentation on our research paper and present our research to the class.  We practiced the flow of the presentation over and over until we had it down perfect, and when we presented it was as smooth as could be.  When all was said and done we were commended by our professor for a job well done, given the highest grade in the class, and asked if she could keep a copy of our binder to use as an example in future courses.  Terry helped me realize that with the right people to lean on, there’s nothing wrong with relying on someone else to help, and that when you do the results can be far better than anything you did alone.

I remember the first time we hung out together outside of school.  His wife had gone home to Australia for her sister’s graduation I believe, and he invited me over to have pizza and play xbox.  It was awesome.  We had a blast and I didn’t leave until well after midnight.  Hanging out and playing xbox became a frequent occurrence throughout the rest of our degree studies, and a little more infrequently afterwards.  I remember staying up late one evening playing Halo together, racing around in vehicles on a level with a beach, and just ramming into each other in an effort to force the other player to go flying through the air.  Once they did so, the one still in a vehicle would chase them down and run over them.  We spent hours doing this, laughing hysterically each time it happened.  Terry taught me that there’s nothing wrong with having fun and acting like a kid every once in a while.  He is one of the goofiest guys I know, but he is also one of the most mature.  There’s a time and a place and he knew where to draw the line.

I remember taking a road trip with him and his wife up to New York to pick up a vintage car he’d bought online.  We drove up in one car and back in two.  The three of us spent two days in a car together on the way up there, then his wife and I spent 3 days in the car together on the way back while he drove behind us by himself.  To pass the time, I had Melinda tell me all about how they met and about when they’d first started dating, then describing their wedding in Australia.  I got the chance to see him through her eyes, and it was a sensitive and caring side of him I’d never seen before.  On the drive back we got lost and Terry got frustrated since he didn’t know where we were going or what was going on.  He text messaged me to pull over and when we all got out of the cars he was more angry than I’d ever seen.  He was tired and hungry and frustrated that we’d been driving around the city for half an hour looking for a motel that we couldn’t seem to find, and he let it all out.  I stood there in shock and fear, not sure who this angry person was in front of me.  A few hours later, once we’d found the motel and got settled in for the night, Terry apologized and made sure everything was alright.  I was shaken for a little while, but realized that we’re all human and sometimes our emotions get the better of us.  Terry taught me that there is no shame in being humble and admitting you messed up.  He knew he’d gone too far and he made sure we knew that he felt bad about it.  Since then, I’ve never seen that angry side of him again.

I remember the day I decided to come out to Terry and tell him the truth about my sexuality.  I’d never said anything before, and he’d never asked.  I wanted him to know the truth because it killed me that for the first few years of our friendship I’d been essentially hiding who I was from him.  I was terrified that he’d be revolted and angry and want nothing more to do with me, and every time I worked up the courage to admit I was gay, I’d have nightmares that he would turn his back on me and walk away, never coming back.  I wanted to tell him in person and texted him to that effect, but he could tell something was wrong and wanted to know what it was.  I told him we could talk about it that night, but he didn’t want to wait.  I eventually told him via text, and this was that conversation (yes, I saved it):

Me: Can you not wait…?
Terry: Gosh…. Now you’re just making me crazy! Nope…. Tell me!!!!
Me: I’m gay. Whether you knew or not, I don’t know for sure, but it scared the hell out of me that if I ever said it out loud you’d never want to talk to me again. You are my best friend and I never wanted to lie or withhold the complete truth, but I was too terrified that I’d lose you. Now I just have to wait and see. I’m so sorry.
Terry: I’ve always been your friend… I’m your friend now… And I will be your friend as long as you want me to be your friend!!
Me: You don’t know how much that means to me. You have no idea.
Terry: Why wouldn’t I be your friend?
Me: You don’t know what it’s like. I’ve lost so many friends. None as close as you, but people just want to get away. To distance from it. To be scared to let something slip and have someone have their suspicions confirmed, and to watch them turn on you so suddenly. … To worry your best friend might be repulsed and want nothing to do with you anymore. I couldn’t stand the thought of it. I just wanted to pretend it wasn’t there.
Terry: If I didn’t stand by you… I wouldn’t be much of a friend… Would I?
Me: I wouldn’t have blamed you though. But no, I guess you wouldn’t. As much as I knew that deep down, fear can twist that.
…
Terry: So… Why did you wait so long to tell me?
Me: I was scared Terry. I can’t tell how often I had nightmares that I told you and you just turned your back and never spoke to me again. You have no idea how real that can feel. I have wanted to tell you for so long. I hate that I’ve lied to you. I hope you can forgive me for that.
Terry: I think under the circumstances… Its understandable!
Me: Thank you.

He came over that night and we talked it out for a couple hours.  For the first time that I can remember, he hugged me that night and told me he loved me, and that nothing would change.  That wasn’t entirely true though, because things did change – we got closer.  There were no more lies or half truths, and it felt so liberating to be able to talk to him about anything.  And Terry was genuinely interested and wanted me to be happy.  He stayed up past midnight one night when I went on a date so that I could call him afterwards to let him know how it went.  He knew I was excited and nervous, and as a friend he wanted to be there for me.  I don’t think I ever told him how much that meant to me.  Our friendship moved to a whole new level and everything just clicked in a way it never has with anyone else before.  He’s been there for me when no one else has and told me the hard truths I always needed to hear, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.  Terry taught me that real friends will love you and respect you no matter what.  It was around this time that he started referring to me as his little brother, and it was only then that I began to realize we had become closer than just friends, and that he truly was like an older brother to me.

Last month he told me that he and his wife would be having a baby.  I was happier than I thought possible, and it wasn’t even going to be my baby.  Unfortunately, that means their planned move to Australia would be coming a little sooner than I’d hoped.  Terry and Melinda had always planned on moving to Australia to raise a family.  It’s something both of them had mentioned to me since when we first became friends.  I began to realize that they’d be moving to Australia before the baby was born and I wouldn’t even get to see it unless I went there to visit; upon this realization, I immediately began saving up money, knowing it’d take a long time to save up enough for an intercontinental flight.  Just recently Melinda let me know that they wouldn’t be ready to move before the cutoff time for her to still be able to fly, so the baby would be born here in the states.  I was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.  I was so happy that I’d actually get to see and hold their child before they left, that I temporarily forgot they’d still be leaving.  It all just faded to the background.

Terry stayed over at my place this weekend while he had a training class in Dallas that he was attending.  He came over Friday and Saturday night and we played Dungeons & Dragons on the xbox all night, just like old times.  We had a blast playing for a few hours, laughing and making references to games we’d played when we first met.  It was like time hadn’t even really gone by.  When I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie instead for a little while he said no, and asked “how often do we get to play games like this?”  I realized then that not only do we not play often now, but once he moves we won’t be able to play or hang out at all.  The past few days I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s over 9 months away before they leave.  I need to figure out how to just set it all aside for now and not worry about it until the time comes for them to go.

I’ve never had to truly say goodbye to someone in the way that I’ll have to say goodbye to Terry.  Part of me knows it won’t be forever, but I am also realistic in the sense that I know neither of us is going to be flying back and forth every year.  He’s my best friend, my older brother, and probably the person who knows me better than anyone else.  It kills me to know he’s leaving.  I told him last night that I had been avoiding writing about it because if I sat down to write, it made it real.  I’d dredge up old memories and that’s not what I wanted.  But I think he knew that.  It’s important to remember those things.  Even the people who are most important to you won’t always be around.  People move and people die.  It’s life (and death).  In this case, I’m just glad it’s the former and not the latter.  He’s not gone yet though, so I’m going to make sure I make the most of the time we have left, because once he’s gone I know I’m gonna fall apart for a little while.